


Beacon

by uniquepov



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 00:08:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uniquepov/pseuds/uniquepov
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Though years have passed, Lewis still has nightmares.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beacon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fortesomniare (Somniare)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somniare/gifts).



> Written for Lewis Secret Santa 2012. I own nothing that you recognise, and I make no profit from any of it.
> 
> Many thanks to my betas – you know who you are – I truly appreciate your willingness to step in at short notice! Any remaining errors are mine alone.

The accident.

It was one of those events that all other major events in one’s life were time-stamped against. Things that happened _before the accident_ , things that happened _after the accident._ After Val’s death.

Nearly a decade had passed, but Robbie still woke every day expecting to see Val beside him. Still felt her loss as keenly as the day she’d left, in that first aching breath he took each morning. The pain had eased, certainly. It was not the constant knife-edged cut of loss that he’d known those first few months. Nor was it the soul-killing numbness he’d felt when he’d headed back to Oxford after his training stint. But it was still there. Val’s loss left a hole in his soul that no-one could quite repair.

They’d had plans, he and Val. Plans for their children, for grandchildren, for a quiet retirement somewhere with a garden. Their own private idyll where they could drink their tea of a morning, watching the birdfeeder, or arguing over plantings for the borders. 

_Best laid plans,_ Robbie thought to himself, laced with bittersweet and thorns.

There had always been the chance the plans wouldn’t come true, of course. But Robbie was the copper. If anyone was in danger of not coming home one night, it was him. It had been tough on Val, he knew; late nights, waiting up to hear his key in the lock. In those early days as a young sergeant, it hadn’t been easy to let her know what was happening, but Val had never complained. If she’d clung to him a little more tightly than usual after a more brutal or dangerous case, he hadn’t minded. Often, he’d have been clinging to her just as tightly; his beacon of love and light in a world of darkness and cruelty, steering him clear of the rocks and shoals, and guiding him safely home.

And then suddenly, that beacon was gone, and Robbie had felt as lost as a mariner adrift on a vast, dark ocean, searching for a lighthouse.

He would wake in the night, reaching for Val; his mind catapulting him into full awareness as he registered her absence, the cold, the emptiness on her side of the bed. That sense of loss would wash over him once more, leaving him adrift in a sea of loneliness, even despair, and Robbie would heave himself out of bed, opting to sit through the remaining wee small hours with a cup of tea – or, more often, a finger or two of something stronger – rather than remain in his achingly empty bed.

It had taken years before he’d been ready to consider the idea that he might find companionship again. He couldn’t bring himself to hope for love – he’d had the best, after all, and one shouldn’t be greedy – but he could imagine a future where he might share someone’s company. 

Laura had been a good friend to him through the dark years, and beyond; she’d known him _before_ , and that afforded him a comfortable tie to the man he’d been. She’d met Val, spoken with her, had dinner with them. At the end of the day, though, Robbie was no longer the person he’d once been, and much as his heart might now be ready to expand enough to allow someone else to share his life, he was forced to admit that it would not expand into a Laura-sized space. It was like trying to shove a square peg into a round hole, and he and Laura had agreed they were better off remaining friends than trying to turn their affection into something more, something that just wasn’t meant to be.

Despite his being open to the possibility of someone else, Robbie wasn’t ready to put himself out there. He was far more comfortable spending time down the pub with James, though he did feel guilty about monopolising the lad’s off-duty time. He’d tried encouraging James to pursue the few romantic interests he’d shown – bloody hell, he’d walked him to Fiona McKendrick’s flat himself and practically bullied James into knocking on the door – but in spite of that, James seemed to be always on his own, rather like Robbie himself. It wasn’t right. At his age, Robbie’d had Val, and Lyn would have already been born, as well. James didn’t seem inclined to be settling down, though.

If he was honest with himself, Robbie was selfishly glad of that. James was a large part of the reason he continued to get up in the morning; the death and violence were almost unbearable, some days, and it was only James’s reassuring presence at his side that kept him from chucking the lot and drowning his sorrows in a bottle. That was the mark of a great partnership, after all, and he had some reason to think James felt the same way. _If you go, I go,_ James had told him. Not much ambivalence there.

The case they’d wrapped up tonight had been a particularly brutal one, and when the last of the paperwork had been sorted, Robbie had invited James back to his place for some takeaway and an informal debriefing.

James was sitting on the sofa, his long legs stretched out in front of him, while Robbie was in his accustomed pose, leant back in his armchair with his feet propped up on the footstool Lyn had bought him. They’d barely spoken a word – some things were best left unsaid – but they’d gone through the better part of a bottle of whisky between them, and Robbie was definitely feeling the effects. His eyelids felt like lead, and his last conscious thought was that perhaps he’d just close his eyes for a moment, and then –

_He was standing on the corner of a busy street, watching cars whiz past, when he saw Val crossing the street in front of him. She was younger; she was pushing Mark in his pram with young Lyn – three or four at most – skipping along beside her. Suddenly, a car appeared, bearing down on them, and Robbie vaulted into action, running into the street towards his family, knowing, even as he ran, that he had no hope of reaching them in time. There was the sound of squealing tyres, the smell of burnt rubber and blood and death -_

Robbie gave a sharp sob as he came awake, his hands gripping the arms of the chair tightly. He leaned forward, gasping for breath as he lowered his head between his knees, the pang of loss so sharp it felt like someone was twisting a knife between his ribs. Gradually, his breathing slowed, and he became aware of a hand moving gently over his back, of a familiar voice making soft sounds of comfort.

“I’m all right,” Robbie managed after another moment. “Sorry.”

James nodded, though his brow was furrowed; he quieted, but his hand remained on Robbie’s back, the reassuring warmth at odds with the cold shard of ice lodged in Robbie’s soul.

“It was just a nightmare. I get them, sometimes. Since…” Robbie’s hand waved, unable to give voice to the rest of the sentence.

James simply nodded again, giving Robbie's back a gentle pat before withdrawing back to the sofa. Robbie rubbed at his eyes, taking note of the time and his sergeant’s weary demeanour.

“You’ll be staying the night, then?” Robbie asked quietly.

“I don’t want to intrude-“

“Man, you’ve just seen the worst. There’s clean sheets on the spare bed,” Robbie interrupted. At James’s nod, he continued, “I warn you, I’m not responsible for anything you might find if you invade me bedroom in the middle of the night.”

At James’s puzzled head tilt, Robbie continued with a self-deprecating grin, “If you decided to try to save me from me own nightmares again. I – well, let’s just say I don’t have pyjamas to lend you.”

James barked out a laugh. “I assure you, sir, your virtue is safe with me.”

Robbie had managed a genuine smile at that, settling James in the spare room and taking himself to bed. He’d pulled the duvet around himself and switched off the lights before it dawned on him that he hadn’t given the nightmare a thought since those first few moments, waking up with James’s hand on his back. 

He could hear James moving about the flat; padding to the bathroom, the muted sound of running water, the soft click of the door to the spare bedroom as he retired for the night. Rather than keeping him awake, the way unfamiliar noises usually did, Robbie found himself being lulled into relaxation. For the first time in many a long year, he felt like he might actually be able to fall asleep again after waking up from a nightmare.

Robbie did not dwell too long on the implications of that, but his last thought, as he fell asleep, was that perhaps there’d been another beacon of light shining out to guide him all this time.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Beacon by uniquepov](https://archiveofourown.org/works/938521) by [fire_juggler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fire_juggler/pseuds/fire_juggler)




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